Losing Control
by RazzaName
Summary: Amy/Rory. M for a reason. Amy wants to regain control of some part of her life.


Amy lay on the top of the bunk bed, slowly blinking herself awake. She could hear her husband's slow, measured breathing below; carrying through the frame of the bed. The redhead relaxed, somewhat mesmerized by the sound.

Rory wasn't snoring. His breathing wasn't loud, not noticeable unless Amy tried. Still, she listened to it, wide awake.

The TARDIS was in flight, that she could tell. There was a constant humming, the noise of the engines and the whirl of vortex and battering of the currents outside. The machine shook ever-so-slightly. No doubt the Doctor was running around the console room, barely sleeping. Did he ever sleep? Amy rolled her eyes at the hypocrisy of that thought.

She was still awake, not quite able to sleep. It felt uncomfortable, being here, like this. She hadn't slept in the TARDIS for a while. Towards the beginning of the journey, the Doctor seemed to treat her as someone almost temporary, sad every time she mentioned how long she wanted to stay with him. He hadn't given her a room; each time she needed to sleep, he landed somewhere, usually a simple inn, and bought a night's lodgings with the psychic paper. Most of the time there hadn't been a simultaneous alien invasion. Well, some of the time.

It was only since Rory arrived that they'd been given a room. Perhaps sensitive to their needs, the TARDIS had also started to take longer in her flights, leaving them much more time to relax on these bunkbeds.

It still felt unnatural. Amy was used to being in control, if not in charge then at least responsible for _something_. Not here. She was unexpected to lose consciousness and volition on a craft piloted by a self-declared madman, who respected likely no authority.

It just didn't feel right. She needed to be in control of something, not just dormant, inactive: she needed to be dominant, at least somehow.

A smile curled her lips. Why not?

Quietly, the redhead moved sideways, to the edge of the bed, and carefully threw her legs over the edge. She didn't use the ladder; it creaked, and took too long. Instead, carefully, she lowered her body down, resting her weight on her arms until her feet met the floor. Nimbly, she turned around, standing simply and facing the sleeping Rory, arms by her sides. She watched for a few seconds, enjoying the new, mild sense of control she felt; she could do anything right now, she could probably even kill him. He was asleep; he couldn't stop her. Still, it was very far from what she really wanted to do.

Rory awoke to hands tightly gripping his arms; he was pulled out of bed roughly, falling along the floor before he could even open his eyes. Blearily, he blinked, trying to clear his tired vision to see what was happening; he was laying on his back, his body being pulled straight, something warm pulling on his legs until they were no longer in a messy, zig-zagging shape, and his arms being pulled up, wrists pinned to the floor.

At last focusing, Rory's first sight was Amy; the redhead pinning him to the floor, her hands over his wrists, her legs straddling his, and her eyes staring into his. Their faces almost touched; he could feel her hurried breath.

"Here's the deal, `k Rory?" his wife spoke, rushed. "I'm in charge, no buts. You just lay there with a smile on your stupid face, alright? And," she hesitated, a delighted smirk on her face. She could feel something pressing against her thigh; "Oh, it'll be nothing you'll object to. Trust me."

Amy didn't let her husband get another thought or word in. She'd already stripped herself before waking Rory up, impatient. he was wearing simple enough pyjamas to get out of, not that she was going to allow that; not yet. Amy Pond lowered her hips a small way, touching her entrance against the clothed hardness: Rory wasn't allowed to enter her for now, but Amy still allowed herself some fun. A little of him was inside her. She stopped moving, slowly swaying her hips, rocking gently from side to side. She heard Rory catch his breath. Perfect.

Slowly, she continued to move, not fast, and not much. Barely enough to tease; but it kept Rory hard, and kept her ready. The redhead smiled, hands squeezing her husband's wrists a little; she leant down, close, touching her lips to his. It wasn't gentle, it was only inwardly romantic: more than anything, it was passionate. Her teeth reached out, caught his lip, biting gently and tightly holding on, even as she lifted herself up a small way. It was a few seconds until she released his lip, watching it ping back the few centimetres. Small teeth marks were visible on his skin.

"Tell me what you want," Amy whispered, smirking. Rory blinked; the redhead just grinned. Rory had tried dirty talk before, and it wasn't that he was bad at it, just that she'd always started to laugh madly before he very far in. In some ways, she still saw Rory as a close friend, and seeing him speak like that... It didn't impact on when they did things outside of just speech though.

Breathless, the redhead froze, stopping her tiny, teasing wriggle; there was a sudden silence. No noise except for their heavy, hurried breathing. Amy's arms lowered; her body lowered, everything pressing against Rory, keeping him down. She made sure to keep her entrance away from his erection; feeling the cloth move up between her thighs. She found herself strangely amused to feel a patch of wetness on the fabric, brushing her skin.

"Fuck me," Rory whispered, desperately embarrassed, but also plain desperate. He shivered, Amy lifting herself up, looking down to meet his eyes. Her lips were curled up; he hadn't said much, and it was hardly the most eloquent statement in the world, yet it was enough.

"Thought you'd never ask," Amy smiled, loving the sensation of control. She moved her hands from her husband's arms, for a moment, hooking her fingers around his waistband and pulling down the lower half of his pyjamas; she lifted her hands again quickly, pinning her husband's hands back down to the floor, using her feet and legs to roughly pull the pyjamas down the rest of the way. Rory gratefully kicked them off, now only wearing his top. Too much trouble to take it off.

Amy bit her lip, suppressing a gasp as she moved down on Rory; he at long last entered her, hard, hot; she stopped as soon as he was fully inside, for just a few seconds, smiling. Slowly, Rory began to catch his breath; regaining his normal pace again. The redhead above him, straddling, legs and hips pressed close against him; she smiled, rocking gently.

"This is for me, ok?" Amy whispered. "Not for you. We're going to keep going until I come, at least once. You're only here for my pleasure. Ok? Got that?" Rory nodded, quickly, oddly eager. His wife smiled.

Amy began to move; she didn't start slowly. The instant her husband nodded, her hips started to thrust, up, down, hard, and very fast. Her hips audibly slapped against her husband's. The redhead closed her eyes, arching her back to moan openly. She kept Rory pinned down, delighting in how it felt, able to control every small thing, making sure Rory hit every perfect spot, again, and again, and again.

Her back arched; Amy moaned, lifting herself up until she was completely straight, riding her husband hard and making loud noises, gasps, moans as she did so. Her body shook; she was close, so close. Biting her lip, hands releasing Rory's for a brief instant, only to press down on his chest, she lifted herself up, and fell down again, fast, Rory again within her.

At that, Amy came, screaming, louder than before and her whole body shuddering. She rode Rory for a little more time, beginning to fall forwards, still softly shaking. Breathless, her husband still within her, she lay over him. Quiet for several seconds.

Tenderly, Rory lifted his freed arms, to carefully wrap them around Amy's bare back, a soft embrace. He blinked as the redhead quickly reacted, body lifted up and hands again wrapping around his wrists, pinning him to the ground.

"I didn't say we were finished," she whispered, rushed, hips again beginning to move.

* * *

><p><strong>First time with anything like this. I don't really know what to say in these notes. Let me know if you enjoyed it!<strong>


End file.
